Somewhere Only We Know
by chandlerina
Summary: Something short about love and long eyelashes and Pavarotti's tree. (Note: This is set in March, because I feel like March should be an important month for Klaine.)


**Somewhere Only We Know**

* * *

><p>It was early. Saturday or Sunday, he wasn't sure, maybe he had stopped caring. After moving back to Lima, days and hours and feelings had been put on hold, as if he was waiting for spring to warm his blood and make his heart beat again. Burt had let him move back into his old room, and even though it felt odd, and a little uncomfortable, Kurt hadn't had another choice. He knew that leaving New York and NYADA had been an unfortunate decision, but it had been something that just had to be done, no matter how small it made him feel.<p>

Kurt sighed as he pulled his coat on. It was cold, March being its usual self with bare branches and gray skies. He was heading out to meet his friends. They were all going to celebrate Quinn becoming the head writer of the Yale Daily News, meeting in Rachel's basement like they all had that night they got drunk. Kurt smirked as he thought about that night, about how Finn had made sure that everyone got home safe. About how hungover most of them had been the next day. About Blaine. Yeah. He thought about Blaine often.

Grabbing his car keys, he walked outside and climbed into his old car. Everything felt like traveling back in time, even the cds in his car made him feel like it was 2011. He smirked to himself as he picked one. "I swear this is not Fleet Foxes", it said, and it was one Blaine had made for him. One of many. He played it, all the way to Rachel's house, he played it. And it was Imagine Dragons, it was Young the Giant, it was endless amounts of Katy Perry and Pink, and as Kurt parked the car and turned it off, he shut his eyes and let his breath get caught in the songs. Blaine's songs.

Climbing out of the car and getting inside, he hugged everyone hello and tried to keep a positive attitude, even though he had no idea what to be happy for. And as the clock ticked on, everyone had gathered and everyone were toasting and cheering and laughing, but he looked around. And missed someone.

"Rachel?" Kurt said, quietly, pulling her to the side, "where's Blaine?"

She looked at him with those brown eyes and shrugged, "he said he had to be someplace first. It is some kind of anniversary to him."

Kurt frowned. Anniversary? He looked back at Rachel. "What?"

"Something about a bird," she said.

And Kurt's heart went cold. His whole self seemed to get numb, as if frozen, stuck while his mind was rushing. What day was it again? Some weekend in March. Some cold, still weekend in March.

Pavarotti.

"I gotta go," he said, already heading up the stairs and not even caring to look back at her. Kurt knew where he had to be, what he had to do. All these years, this day had been important to him. It had meant something to him, to him and Blaine. But this year had been confusing, horribly confusing, and it had left him forgetting about the things that really mattered to him.

Kurt drove out of Lima. His stereo had Death Cab for Cutie on repeat, but only those songs Blaine had burned on the cd for him, and they were beautiful, meaningful. And they made him miss all those things he used to see when he looked into Blaine's brown eyes. The sun was hiding behind a bunch of clouds when Kurt finally drove up to the place he needed to be. The place they had visited together many times, but never alone. Until now.

Everything was the same. The grass was cold and sky was gray, and the tree stood tall and proud. As Kurt slowly made his way towards it, he remembered the first time he had been here. How he had gently placed his yellow winged friend into the ground, how the boy next to him had taken his hand. It was the first time Kurt had felt completely safe, he had finally had someone who stood by his side. No matter what. But all that had changed.

Kurt had never really believed in regrets, until the day he watched Blaine walk away. He had realized that whatever problems he had felt in their relationship, wasn't because of Blaine. It was because of himself. And he had taken a long time to work on those problems, to figure them out, and to finally realize that he had been the one who had screwed it all up. But he also knew that rebuilding broken relationships were hard, and very rarely worked out in the end. But oh how he missed him.

And there he sat. Tiny and familiar and absolutely beautiful, there he sat. Kurt's eyes met his. There was this glimmer in the tiny ex-Warbler's eyes that had always made Kurt feel warm inside, and as he looked into those brown eyes now, he saw that glimmer. It was faint, barely noticeable, but it was there. "Hi," Blaine said, giving him a smile.

And Kurt wanted to tell him everything that was rushing through his mind, he wanted to tell him how sorry he was, how so very sorry he was. But it was as if the air in his lungs had disappeared, and as he looked at Blaine, he realized that he didn't know where to start. How do you start apologizing for breaking someone's heart and changing their life forever? Kurt nodded his head towards the spot next to Blaine. "Can I sit down?"

"Of course you can," Blaine said and moved over a bit. Their arms touched as Kurt sat down and leaned back against the tree. There was something so familiar in the air, in how the warmth from Blaine seemed to radiate against Kurt's cold skin. "Everything is so different now, Kurt."

And Kurt turned his head to look at him, to watch his face from the side, to see the slight blush on Blaine's smooth skin from the cold March air. "I miss you," Kurt whispered, not completely sure that it was what he wanted to say, or if it was something Blaine wanted to hear, but he said it nonetheless. Because he did. And he watched how Blaine closed his eyes, the perfectly long and dark eyelashes soft against his skin.

Kurt studied his face, every feature was so familiar, every curl in his gelled hair was so very familiar, and he wanted Blaine to say something. Anything. But he was silent, slowly opening his eyes, slowly letting his gaze wander across their surroundings. So Kurt turned his head and gently placed it against Blaine's shoulder, not sure if he would let him or if he would push him away. But Blaine didn't move, he didn't tell Kurt to go away. He didn't say anything.

Some time passed, minutes ticked away while the two boys sat there in silence. Only the sound of the cold gentle breeze, and a few small birds singing the winter away could be heard, until suddenly, Blaine moved his head and kissed the top of Kurt's hair. Reaching out to find his hand, to lace their fingers. "I miss you, too. So much. Every day, every hour, every second, Kurt."

There was a 'but' lingering somewhere in his words, but Kurt refused to let Blaine say it. "I know I can't tell you how sorry I am, because there's no sorry big enough for how much I hurt you," Kurt said, moving to look into his old friend's dark eyes. "But I am. Sorry. I'm so sorry, for everything I did to you and to us and to what we had. I understand if you want to hate me forever."

But Blaine shook his head. "I don't hate you, I could never hate you." He reached to brush his hand over Kurt's cheek. "Maybe you were right. Maybe we were just too young."

Kurt closed his eyes to the touch, feeling them fill up with tears. And he shook his head, looking at Blaine. "No. I was wrong. Yes, we were young, we _are_ young, but I love you. And I promised to never say goodbye to you, and I haven't. I won't."

To that, Blaine smiled. An actual, real, oh so familiar smile that made the tears in Kurt's eyes fall over the edge. "Come here," Blaine said, wrapping his arms around him and pulling him close. And Kurt sighed, feeling as if a heavy stone had been lifted off his chest, and he wanted to stay in this bubble forever. He wanted to be wrapped in Blaine's arms, and breathe in Blaine's scent and feel Blaine's warmth forever. "I love you so much," Blaine whispered.

It would take them a while to work things out. They would spend countless seconds, minutes, hours talking and telling each other just how this breakup had felt, and how they were going to solve the problems they had encountered before it. But as they sat there now, getting cold on the freezing March ground, looking into each others eyes and reading each other perfectly, they knew that it would all be worth it.

They knew that on this exact day, one year from now, they would stand here together, hand in hand, because that was the only thing that mattered. Not if they were married, not if they were living together. What mattered was that they would work everything out and be in each others lives, as boyfriends, as first loves, as true loves. Nothing else mattered.

Kurt looked over at the place where they had buried Pavarotti four years earlier. There was a fresh red rose there, something he would be the one to bring. But this year, Blaine had done it for him. "I can't believe I forgot about this day," he said.

Blaine looked at the rose, and then back at Kurt. And then he kissed him, gently, his lips warm against Kurt's cold skin, his hand reaching up to stroke Kurt's face. It was just as lovely as it had always been, just as calm and gentle and relaxed as always. And it was just what they both needed. Turning his head away, Blaine smiled, laughed a little even, brushing a hand across his face. And Kurt smiled. For the first time in a very, very long time, he smiled and he felt his cheeks blush and saw Blaine's cheeks do the same.

"Come on," Kurt said, getting up on his feet, reaching out his hand for Blaine to grab on to. "Let's go home." And to that, Blaine nodded, his smile softening. His eyes looked up at Kurt, and Kurt lost his breath. There it was. Deep there in the brown of Blaine's eyes, there was a shimmer, a strong and very evident shimmer, a sparkle, that very sparkle that had always made Kurt feel warm inside.

Just as it did now. Just as it would always do.

_Fin._


End file.
